Christmas at the Lair
by xirtadar
Summary: Slash. Chase x Jack. All Jack wants to do is celebrate Christmas. Good luck with that, kiddo.


"Chase?" Jack asked, lips pouting ever so slightly. 

"What is it, Spicer?" Chase responded, hardly looking up from his Wall Street Journal. 

"Do you know what today is?" 

"Well, according to this paper it is December 24th." 

"That's right. It is." Jack looked at Chase expectantly. 

Chase looked up from his newspaper and took his reading glasses off. "Is it your birthday or something?" 

"No." Jack was on the verge of tears. 

"Our anniversary?" 

"No." 

"I give up." 

"It's Christmas Eve, Chase." 

"So?" 

"Well, I want to do something for it." 

"Why?" 

"Oh! You'll never understand!" Jack ran away crying. Chase didn't bother to follow him. He knew Jack would be back. 

XXX 

Later that afternoon Chase was filing his fingernails/claws on his throne when Jack approached him again. "What is it, boy?" Chase sneered. 

"Just because we're evil doesn't mean we can't celebrate Christmas." 

"Look, Jack, if you want to do something go ahead. I just don't care. If you ask me, the whole thing is stupid." 

"Well, I got something for us." Jack turned around and left the throne room. A minute later he reappeared dragging a chopped-down pine tree behind him. "I got us a Christmas tree!" Jack exclaimed, his face filled with boyish glee. 

"I don't like it," Chase responded. Then he sneezed, which was weird because Chase _never_ sneezed. Then he sneezed again. And again. 

"Why don't you like it?" Jack asked. 

"Well, for one I'm allergic to it." Chase sneezed some more. "Get it out of here!" Chase commanded. 

"No! I want to have a Christmas tree!" Jack crossed his arms and pouted his lips; this usually worked on Chase.

"I thought you weren't religious," Chase said slowly, wiping his nose on his sleeve. This was a disgusting habit of his; Chase felt that Kleenex was a ridiculous extravagance, and that blowing one's nose in toilet paper was an indignity that he shouldn't have to weather. 

"I don't know," Jack said thoughtfully, bouncing on one leg like a puppy that was struggling to decide what to urinate on. "Christmas isn't a religious holiday, it's just fun." 

"Jack, you dolt," Chase said derisively. "Christmas is the birthday of the messiah. It's _Christ_-mass. The entire point of the holiday is religious." 

"I saw _Jesus Christ Superstar_ in the West End with my parents when I was 12," was Jack's answer to this charge. 

"No Christmas," Chase said conclusively, getting up off his throne and sneezing as he stumbled out of the room. "And get that ridiculous tree out of my house."

Later, Chase was taking his favorite jungle cat for a walk. These cats had to go somewhere, and when Chase moved into a hollowed-out mountain fortress he didn't anticipate not having anywhere for his future pet-slaves to bathe. Or go to the bathroom. It was very frustrating. 

Walking by Jack's room — actually it was more like a bonus room with an air mattress and a bunch of horrible soiled boxers strewn about the place — Chase noticed the boy packing a bag.

"Where are you going?" Chase asked, arching an eyebrow. The tiger began to tug on its leash. "Stay, Pomona!" The tiger sat down. Chase pulled a dead rabbit out of his pocket and dropped it on the floor. "Good girl." 

"I'm going home," Jack said, balling up a pair of purple-and-black-striped leg warmers and shoving them in his duffel bag. "My parents celebrate Christmas." 

"But you said your parents don't understand you." 

"No, they said, and I quote, 'As long as you're sleeping with that megolomaniacal lizard-thing we don't want you around here.' And, you know, I'm just going to lie to them and tell them that I'm not doing that anymore." 

"Then you'll just come back here?" 

"If nothing better comes along while I'm at home." 

Chase sighed. "Look, Spicer. This is ridiculous. You can have a Christmas tree, just keep it in your room. And try not to _annoy_ me about it." 

"Oh Chase!" Jack shrieked, knocking his bag off the chair it was on and leaping into the warlord's arms. "This is so great." 

"Ew." Chase tossed Jack back into the semi-deflated air mattress. "Don't touch me." 

"You won't regret this!"

Jack decided that he should do a little something for Chase because he had allowed him to have Christmas. He used his helipack to go to the local adult fun store, which was like 600 miles away, but that didn't phase him. It was Christmas. 

"Hello," said the clerk when Jack entered. "May I help you with anything?" 

"I want to do something sexy for my boyfriend." 

"We get a lot of that. Can you be more specific?" 

"Um. I want it to be Christmas themed?" 

"Now we're talking. Let me show you these." The clerk led him over to a mannequin wearing a red velvet gG-string with white faux-fur trim. 

"Oooh!" Jack squealed. "That will get him in the Christmas spirit!" 

The clerk looked at him doubtfully. "Should I ring this up for you?" 

"Yes, I'll need a small." 

"I see." 

XXX

Back at the lair Jack started baking his world-famous gingerbread cookies. Unfortunately, the were world-famous for being bad. 

"What is that horrible smell?" Chase asked as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. "Did Raja have another accident?" 

"I'm making Christmas cookies!" Jack exclaimed, a stupid grin across his face. 

"Well, cease this immediately. It smells like a combination of cinnamon and death. And while I love the smell of death, combined with cinnamon it is just ruined." 

"Look, Chase, you really need to get into the Christmas spirit." 

"Bah!" 

Then Jack started singing "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch." Then Chase started throwing him across the room until he stopped.

"That's not very nice," Jack moaned, rubbing his soon-to-be-bruised ass as he stood up. "I'm just trying to have a nice time." 

"I couldn't care less if you have a nice time. Just stop annoying me." 

"Chase, is there a _reason_ you don't like Christmas?" 

"A reason? Spicer, I'm a 1,500-year-old dragon without a _soul_. When I was mortal, I wasn't _Christian_. Why should I like Christmas? It's just another opportunity for you to bother me with you teenaged fancies." 

"Hey, hey — this isn't like that thing with the tampons," Jack said, waving both hands in protest. 

"Well, that was extremely disgusting," Chase said. "But seriously, I'm warning you, if you're going to celebrate this worthless excuse for a consumer orgy, stay away from me." 

"Or what? I'll have to do it with that stupid jaguar again? Because that was kind of okay." 

Chase slammed his fist into the counter. "I mean it, Spicer! If I hear so much as one word about Christmas you will find yourself in a horrible position. Am I understood?" 

"Oh, yeah. Loud and clear." 

"And clean up this cookie mess." 

"Whatever you say," said Jack, obviously planning to do absolutely nothing Chase had ordered.

XXX

After Jack had finished cleaning the kitchen, he brought his plate of cookies up to the throne room. "Cookies?" he asked cloyingly. 

"No!" stormed Chase, knocking the platter on the floor. Cookies and broken shards of plate flew everywhere. 

"Jeez! " Jack exclaimed. "I know they're bad, but they're not _that_ bad." 

"Jack, you just don't get it." 

"I know. I've been bad." Jack held his hands behind him as he said this, swaying a little. 

"You sure have," smirked Chase. 

"Do I need to be punished?" Jack asked hopefully. 

"Well, yes, but not in any way you would actually enjoy. You just don't deserve it." 

"Oh piddle," Jack responded. 

"Well, have you gotten that irritating tree out of here yet?" 

"No. I wanted to keep it." 

"Well," said Chase knowingly, "I've decided on your punishment." 

"Oh?" Jack looked hopeful again.

XXX 

A short time later, Chase was pacing back and forth in front of his throne. 

"Well?" Jack asked expectantly, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. He was already hard thinking about all the ridiculous things Chase might do to him as a reprimand. 

"I'm thinking!" Chase spat. 

"What's the hold up?" Jack tapped his foot impatiently. "My balls are really full. Let's go." 

"Ugh, Spicer." Chase pinched the bridge of his nose as if just speaking to Jack was causing him pain. "I am trying to think of a punishment you will decidedly _not_ get any satisfaction from." 

"That's cool, I know the safeword." 

"No, you don't understand. You are a perverted sex manaic, and I am unable to conceive of any punishment you would not take twisted carnal satisfaction from." 

"I can see where you'd go wrong with that," Jack suggested. "Considering you're such an anal bastard you can't conjure up anything that _doesn't_ employ the kind of brutality that gets me off. Although it's true, I would enjoy basically anything," he added as an afterthought. 

"What?" Chase asked, grabbing Jack by the throat and slamming him down on the stairs to the throne. "Don't speak to me that way." 

"Hurt me again," Jack purred, tugging at Chase's pants. 

"Enough!" Chase cried, kicking Jack in the chest on his way out of the room. 

"Where are you going?" he asked, rubbing his crotch behind Chase's back. 

"I'm going to incinerate your Christmas tree." 

"Oh, no you're not!" 

"And I'm not even going to tie you up while I do it." 

"Chase!" Jack whined, struggling to his feet to go after the disgruntled warlord.

But he was too late. Jack walked into his bedroom to find the tree ablaze. In no time it was just a pile of ashes on the floor. "Noooooo!" Jack screamed melodramatically. "How could you do that!? It's Christmas." 

"Not anymore, it's not," Chase retorted successfully. 

"You ruined my Christmas!" Jack shouted. 

"Finally, a punishment you didn't enjoy." 

"You got that right. I'm leaving you, Chase." 

"No you're not." 

"Well, that's only because I have nowhere else to go." 

"I knew it. Now I've got to go do some evil plotting. Clean up this mess." 

"No! I'm going to decorate this pile of ashes. It's still my Christmas tree!" 

"Jack, that's so pathetic. Even for you." 

"I don't care." Jack said, placing ornaments strategically around the pile of ashes. 

"Whatever, just have it cleaned up by tomorrow." 

"No, I'm keeping this until the day after New Year's." 

"Jack?" 

"Yes?" 

Then Chase blew on the pile of ashes and it dispersed throughout the room, coating everything in gray. 

"You ruined my Christmas tree!" Jack shouted. 

"I already ruined your Christmas tree, Jack. Now I've ruined your pile of ashes that was acting as a surrogate Christmas tree." 

"I hate you!"


End file.
